Welcome To The Black Parade
by stellierox
Summary: AU, not Klaine - sorry. OOC Blaine, questioning his sexuality etc. When new student Sam Hadley joins McKinley, the school is instantly put off by her bad reputation. But Blaine sees through that. The two form an unlikely pair - how can two broken people 'fix' each other? Set in season 4. Come, my friends. 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
1. Tis Not Too Late To Seek A Newer World

**Disclaimer: Ryan Murphy owns Glee, not me :(**

**Okay, this story IS NOT Klaine, (although it is in the beginning) and Blaine is incredibly OOC in the most obvious way possible: questioning his sexuality et cetera. I'm warning you now, okay, so no hate please! It was just in my head, and I had to get it out :)  
It starts in roughly episode 2 of season 4, and follows the basic storyline, but there will be differentiation, seeing as I'm introducing an OC. Spelling or grammatical errors are my own as this is unbeta'd, and I apologise, although I hope that they do end up being few and far between. I procrastinate a lot, and proofreading makes up a huge chunk of that!  
Uhm, there's not much more to add apart from that, so I really hope that you guys enjoy.  
Wait! My OC swears once, I figured it wasn't worthy of an M rating yet, is it? Sorry!  
That's it. **

"Blaine! Hey!" Blaine turned from his locker, recognising Sam's voice cutting through the normal buzz of the high school corridor. The blonde haired boy was pushing his way through a group of very scared looking freshmen as he called Blaine's name. "Have you seen the new girl?" Sam leant against the locker next to Blaine's.  
With a roll of his eyes, Blaine returned his focus to getting his music books out.

"I'm sure she's not my type." Seriously, Sam knew he had a boyfriend.

"Dude, I know. Wrong gender." Sam teased.

"And I'm taken." Blaine straightened his back slightly, proud of the fact that he was going to maintain a long distance relationship. Sure, nobody said it was going to be easy, but Kurt and he belonged together. They would make it through, because they were in love.

"I don't wanna know if you're into her, I just wanted to know if you'd seen her. She's scary. Hot, but scary. Seriously."

"And what makes her so scary, exactly?" Blaine scoffed. How terrifying could a teenage girl be? He had witnessed Rachel at the height of her annoying stalker period when she was trailing after Finn; and he was there to watch Santana 'go all Lima Heights' on multiple people's asses. Remembering this, he cringed a little.

"People have been telling all these stories of how she went to juvie and broke the nose of every roommate they tried to put her with until they let her have a solitary room." Sam smiled at Brittany as she approached them. "And seeing her this morning, I totally believe it."

"You talking about the new girl?" Brittany pulled one of Blaine's gelled back curls out of its casing and twirled it around her finger. Her new habit was as annoying as it was inconvenient for Blaine, making it necessary for him to take frequent bathroom breaks - simply pushing the offending curl back down was not enough, he had to have a mirror and a comb. And, if necessary, another squirt of gel.

"Yeah, she's in my homeroom," replied Sam. "D'ya know why she went to juvie?"

"People are saying arson," Tina said from behind Blaine's shoulder. "Apparently she set fire to her school's science department." Sam chuckled, pulling Brittany's hand away from Blaine's head.

Blaine smiled at him gratefully before asking, "And did anyone catch her name?"

No one said anything. Brittany squinted, obviously trying incredibly hard to dredge up a memory containing the mysterious new student's name, but she came up with nothing; shrugging, and walking away in the opposite direction to homeroom.

"So, you guys are all giving in to the rumour mill without even bothering to find out her name? Jeez Louise, maybe she's having a hard time." Blaine closed his locker, leaning against the door.

"I don't remember you warming to juvenile delinquents when you were almost blinded by a killer slushie, wielded by a borderline psychotic teenager." Tina raised her eyebrows at him.

"Look, we know nothing about her! Did it not occur to you that maybe the rumours are false? I know how nervous I was moving to a new school, and that was with people I already knew welcoming me. All she's getting is a reputation that she possibly doesn't even deserve."

But Sam and Tina were oblivious to his outburst, looking at something in the corridor. Blaine spun round, catching a glimpse of the back of someone walking casually down the corridor, away from them. She was dressed all in black, and long dark brown hair with red ends hung down to her waist. As she sauntered down the corridor, Blaine saw smoke hanging in the air behind her. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke confirmed his guess. He watched her enter a classroom as the corridor fell into silence for a brief few seconds. Once she was gone, the chatter hesitantly returned, to a lesser volume than before.  
The buzz was back.

* * *

"Hey." Bline called Kurt on his way from homeroom to the music department.

"_Hey yourself."_ Blaine smiled to himself at Kurt's smooth voice as it came through the receiver.

"How're you? How's Rachel?"

"_I'm fine. I miss you. I love you." _Kurt sounded a little sad over the phone. Maybe it was just Blaine's imagination.

"I love you too, Kurt."

"_And Rachel, is, surprisingly, not pining over Finn at all."_ Blaine paused outside his class, leaning on the wall next to the door.

"What? I thought she would be-"

"_Crying all the time and putting the grocery store down the street's ice cream out of stock?"_

"Well, yeah." Blaine walked into music class and got his books out, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder as he returned the smiles offered to him by his classmates as he sat down.

"_She's fine. She still misses him and everything, and every now and then I do see her smile falter, but..."_

"What?"

"_You have to promise not to tell."_ Kurt's voice sank to a whisper, so Blaine blocked his other ear as he put his elbows onto his desk.

"Of course not." Blaine smiled. Even if you were no longer in high school, rumours followed you everywhere.

"_She's met this guy a few years ahead of her at NYADA – I think he's a TA or something."_

"And he's...?"

"_Incredibly attractive, to say the least." _A sharp flash of, what was it? Jealousy? Shot through Blaine's chest.

"Hey."

"_He hasn't got triangular eyebrows, Blaine, you've got nothing to worry about." _ Blaine laughed. _"Triangular eyebrows are my sweetest downfall."_ Kurt sang through Blaine's iPhone.

"I love that song."

"_Sing it at glee."_

"Maybe." Blaine spotted Mr Rensleigh entering the classroom. "I've gotta go, class is starting." He heard a sigh from the receiver. "I'll call you, okay? I'll call you soon. I love you."

"_I love you too, Blaine Warbler."_ Blaine unwillingly hung up, and got comfortable in his seat as Mr Rensleigh started quietening the class down.

* * *

20 minutes into the music history class, Blaine was bored. He had only been awake for about an hour and a half, and already he could feel his eyelids growing heavy. Mr Rensleigh's voice, after welcoming his students, had quickly returned to the monotone that he was famous for at McKinley. Even when trying to analyse how happy Bach was in each of his two marriages, something that he was quite passionate about, his voice didn't cease its droning. Mr Rensleigh returned to the subject of Bach's marriages at least twice a year, and although Blaine had only been at McKinley for a year, he had been assured by his classmates that they had been listening to their teacher psychoanalyse Bach's relationships since freshman year.

Blaine's thoughts turned to the new girl he had seen that morning. So maybe everyone's assumptions were correct, she was a badass, but it didn't warrant a school full of rumours before anyone had said a word to her. Granted, this was McKinley.

"I always wonder if maybe because Bach was married to someone he knew, his second cousin, that he may have grown up with-" Mr Rensleigh's lacklustre tone was interrupted by the opening of the classroom.  
The class would possibly never know how Bach's marriage to his second cousin differed to his marriage to his second wife, because the new girl had entered the classroom, her scuffed up Dr Martens squeaking a little on the grey linoleum of the classroom floor as she weaved in and amongst the desks. Mr Rensleigh fell into silence, as the class watched her with wonder and faint respect. Did he detect a whiff of fear? The girl's reputation had obviously preceded her in this particular class.  
He recognised her, but he didn't know where he knew her from. He definitely didn't recognise the stereotypical 'emo' wardrobe.  
She was wearing a grey Blink-182 t-shirt, and black skinny jeans. A black hoodie was looped around her arm, and she placed it on the back of her chair as she put her black backpack onto the desk in front of Blaine. It was covered in white out, and Blaine strained to read what was written on the back pack. He made out a few lines of text – from a poem, he presumed – that he didn't recognise.

**Come, my friends.  
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.  
Push off, and sitting well in order smite  
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds  
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths  
Of all the western stars, until I die.**

The girl sat down, seated exactly in front of Blaine, running a hand through her waves of hair. The smell of her shampoo wafted towards Blaine. It smelled like lemon and mint. Blaine closed his eyes as Mr Rensleigh's voice called out. For once, his voice had life.

"And what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Mr Rensleigh was almost never interrupted, as his students were rarely interested in what he had to say, and his clearly surprised indignant tone cut through the air.

"Is this not the music theory classroom?" Her voice was husky, a result of the cigarettes that she no doubt frequently smoked. Her voice was full of irony, and she had obviously heightened the pitch a little in feigned innocence.

"It is, and you're twenty minutes late for my lesson."

"Oh, forgive me." He voice was still at the slightly higher pitch, the innocence transitioning into dry humour. The class broke out into whispered giggles, and Blaine could hear the smile in her voice.

"Would you like to explain your lateness, miss?"

"Hadley. Call me Sam." She let her voice shift to the natural tone. Realisation dawned on Blaine. Little Sammy Hadley? They hadn't spoken in years, and she was in no way the teenage delinquent sitting in front of him. "I was busy." She shrugged.

"Busy doing what, Miss Hadley?"

"I don't know, stuff. Who the fuck gave you the right to ask?" The quiet sniggers that the class had been emitting ended abruptly. Mr Rensleigh's face turned a nasty shade of reddish purple.

"Watch your mouth. To the principal's office, now." Sam sighed dramatically, picking up her back, and looping her hoodie over her arm once more. Blaine caught a flash of silver on her wrist.  
_Her charm bracelet. _  
She pushed her chair skew, and the chair leg protested against the linoleum with a sharp squeak. "The education department gave me the right to ask, Miss Hadley," muttered Mr Rensleigh, looking triumphant at his victory over his student.

"Oh, you're funny. I like you." Sam flashed him a huge smile, and the class broke out into quiet laughs once more, as she said "I'll be sure to always be present in _this_ class." The teacher paled.  
With that, she slowly ambled through the classroom door, obviously with no intentions of going to the principal. She slammed the door, and the class jumped, but she quickly opened it back up again to utter a sarcastic "Sorry, sir." Then she was gone. The echo of the door's impact on the frame hung in the air of the silent classroom.

Mr Rensleigh looked relieved at her exit, and his posture visibly relaxed.  
"Alright, settle down. Back to Mr J. S. Bach."

Blaine groaned inwardly and put his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his hands. His thoughts returned to Sam.

* * *

The glee club was having auditions in the hall, and Blaine kept wondering if Sam would show up. They used to sing together. But two ten year olds belting out ABBA said nothing for someone's current singing ability. And, come to think of it, apart from Puck, no teenage rebel was ever going to join Glee club unless they were forced to. So he forced himself not to dwell on it.

**That's it! End of chapter one!  
Hater's gonna hate. Potato's gonna potate. I'm sorry if you're a Klainer – so am I! I cried while watching The Break Up just as much as everyone else! I just want Blaine to have some happiness, that's all...  
Uhm, the poem on Sam's backpack is an excerpt from Alfred Lord Tennyson's "Ulysses". So I don't own that. I also don't own the song that Kurt references; Samson, by Regina Spektor. I don't know if Blaine will end up singing it or not, I just wrote the line and decided to go with it?  
Thank you for reading this, whoever ends up reading this. Please review if you would like me to continue, even if there's just one of you, it'll be worth it. xo xo**


	2. Let The Wild Rumpus Start!

**So, I'm on holiday in the middle of nowhere (or the centre of the universe, depends on your perspective) with tons of time and nothing to do! Only thing is, there's no access to the internet, so although I'll be writing a lot, this probably won't get posted for a while – but there will be at least three chapters written up by then. I've got a couple of good ideas on where this story's gonna go. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee - if I did, Blaine's hair wouldn't be nearly as slimy.**

* * *

Let The Wild Rumpus Start!

"Blaine! How was school, sweetheart?" Blaine walked into the kitchen of his home to find his mother sitting at the counter, reading that day's paper.

"It was..." Blaine paused to give her a light kiss on the cheek. "Good. Weird not having Kurt around..." He trailed off, as his mother didn't seem to have heard him. She had returned to her paper the moment she had received her customary greeting. Blaine often wondered why his mother would offer up her cheek so enthusiastically at his leave to and upon his return from school – granted, he couldn't remember the last time his father had kissed her, other than when there were cameras around.  
After Blaine's father had garnered such respect among the Westerville community as "The DA With The 'No Nonsense' Approach To Crime", he had swiftly made a power play into the city council, and was now running for Mayor. Blaine had read the newspaper articles, watched the interviews, and seen the pictures of his father; and the man that the town wanted as their representative was in no way the man that had raised him. In fact, Blaine's father had done nothing to raise him. Once Blaine had come out to his parents, his 'dad' wanted nothing more to do with his son that wasn't 'normal'.

Blaine remembered the first thing his father had said after he had gathered the courage to choke through his tears and admit his sexuality to his parents.

"Well, that's inconvenient."

Inconvenient.

That's inconvenient.

Because nothing mattered more to Mr Craig Anderson than status. Status and power. Therefore, whenever he was required to bring his family along to a dinner or lunch, thrown by the local upperclassmen, Mr Anderson would plaster a smile on to his face, and parade his son around, detailing his successes in academics. Every class that Blaine took was an AP class: Calculus, Chemistry, Physics, English Literature. Music didn't offer an AP class – so Music was never mentioned. Mr Anderson never mentioned Glee Club. He never mentioned music. He never mentioned West Side Story.  
When Blaine was Tony, he felt like he finally knew how to breathe.  
He felt invincible, and although his mother was there, sitting near the back, she didn't know what it meant to him. That night after the performance, when he was bouncing around the kitchen, re-living every moment on stage, all she did was smile sweetly, and turn her face up for a goodnight kiss on the cheek.

Not that Mr Craig Anderson was even at the performance. He had a late meeting.

Blaine headed up to his room. This week's assignment was "A Message". Blaine wanted to send a message to Kurt. Because Kurt understood.

"Oh, Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" His mother looked up from her newspaper as Blaine hovered at the foot of the stairs.

"You know the Hadleys?" When Blaine was a child, they would spend every weekend with the Hadley family. Sam's dad was the Chief Of Police – meaning that while their fathers talked business, and complained about 'The State Of Society Nowadays', and their mothers busied themselves with the making of ambrosia, Blaine and Sam would run wild in the park next door to the Andersons' house.  
When Cooper was still at home, he always chased them away from the wondrous land inside his bedroom, so they entertained themselves with tales of Wild Things in the park's shadowy corners.  
They would roar their terrible roars, and gnash their terrible teeth, roll their terrible eyes and show their terrible claws. They were going to be young forever. But, ever since Sam's father had split, (rumoured affairs with the hookers he picked up for solicitation) Blaine's father cut off all ties with the Hadley's, for fear of tarnishing his spotless reputation.

It would be inconvenient to associate with those kinds of people.

"Of course, I still see her mother, Annette, every now and then at the grocery store. Why?" Blaine's mother asked. Blaine shook himself out of his nostalgic state to answer her.

"Sam's at McKinley now." He tried to sound light, unaffected, aloof.

"Really? She always went to that all girls private school, Crawford Country Day."

"Yeah, Dalton's sister school." Blaine still remembered those plaid skirts and knee high socks that the girls were forced to wear. Although he enjoyed having a uniform – an identity - he was certain that the Sam he had seen that day would have had a strong objection to the dress code. "Anyway, just thought you would want to know."

"Invite her and her mother over for dinner some time, sweetie." Blaine bit back a laugh.

"I don't think so, mom."

"Oh, well then. No worries." His mother returned her focus back to the newspaper. Blaine saw the corner of a picture of his father in the centre of the page. No wonder his mom was so interested in the article.

* * *

"Blaine, you got something?" Blaine looked wearily up at Mr Shuester as he motioned for Blaine to get up and perform.

The day had been exhausting, he had a two thousand word English essay on Catcher in the Rye due for Monday, and although he had loved the book, and had seen thousands of things when reading that he wanted to comment on, but with all of the clubs that he had joined, he had no time for anything. Sitting in Glee right now, he was thinking about what exactly he wanted to put into his presidential campaign speech. Everything was riding on what he said, and he knew that he wanted to stay true to himself, stay true to what he wanted McKinley to become. And he had to work hair gel into his speech somewhere. It would fit in when he detailed Brittany's inadequacy.

And Sam had shown up for Music class again, making snide remarks about Telemann's work – Baroque music was full of emotion, no matter what Sam had said. Her argument was that musicians wrote music for others; wrote music for the highest bidder, but didn't that say something for the emotion behind it? That it was written so that another could enjoy it? It was the same as writing a love song for a pretty girl.  
Except the girl would have to buy it.  
Blaine's head hurt. He could feel Sam's eyes on the back of his neck, in every single class of his. She was in every single one of his classes. Was that even possible? And she had chosen to sit behind him. While he hadn't approached her yet, he knew that she recognised him. He must look different to what he looked like when they were twelve, and they had seen each other for the last time, but she recognised him. He knew she recognised him.  
Blaine was tired. All he wanted to do was go home and dive-bomb his pillow. He wanted to give his mom her customary kiss on the cheek, and sleep. And he would. It was Friday afternoon, and he had all weekend to work on his essay and write his speech. He would win the election, he knew it. The last thing he wanted to do was stand up and sing.

But this was about Kurt, he was going to sing something for Kurt, and whether he heard it or not, it would help Blaine sleep that night.

At least it was Friday.

As Blaine got up to speak to the band about the arrangement, he noticed that the glee club's usual chatter had died away to an uneasy whisper. Turning around, he saw Sam in the door.

"Is this the Glee Club?" She looked hesitant, and for a second, he saw the innocent girl that he had known for years.

"Yes, we're the New Directions, but auditions were on Tuesday." Mr Shuester stood up, smiling kindly. Sam arched an eyebrow at the name of the club, but said nothing of it.

"Yeah, I don't wanna be here, and I wasn't planning on auditioning, but apparently I'm required to do some co-curriculars, so here I am." She strode in and sat in one of the chairs. Everyone had turned to look at her, and she crossed her legs, irritated. "It was either this, and orchestra, or back to juvie, so..."

"Uhm, okay, I'm sure we can make an exception, but you will have to provide some sort of audition." Mr Shue was still trying incredibly hard to be a ray of sunshine.

"Right now?" Sam ran a hand through the tendrils of her long hair, pulling on a few knots. There were a few tiny braids, placed inconspicuously throughout her hair, no doubt from when she was bored in class. Blaine knew she was smart – Sam hadn't yet volunteered any information, but when a few teachers had called on her for answers, she had answered them perfectly, with a roll of her eyes and a light drum of her fingertips on her desk. There was no doubt that she still paying piano; Blaine had heard her tapping out complicated rhythms behind him in Biology.

"In this club period, yes." Mr Shuester said, still smiling.  
Sam sighed, no doubt weighing the impromptu performance with juvenile detention. Blaine hoped to God that she chose Glee Club.

"Fine."

"And what shall we call you?" Mr Shuester brightened, hoping to score a new member. Jake still hadn't come around.

"Sam." She glanced at the time on a watch Blaine recognised as her father's when they were little.

"My names Sam too," offered Sam Evans, giving her an awkward wave, no doubt still pretty intimidated by the fact that she was, in his words, 'scary, but still hot'.

Sam was indeed beautiful. She had always been beautiful - but over the years, the puppy fat had vanished from her cheeks, leaving her high cheekbones just a little defined, and her skin had darkened to a light caramel, the genes no doubt coming from the grandmother she had in Equador.

"Really? Well, I guess that means we're going to live happily ever after then." Sam muttered scathingly. The blonde boy leant dejectedly back into his chair. Sam returned her attention to her watch, checking the time with the clock that was above the door, and adjusting hers accordingly.

"All right. Blaine, when you're ready." Upon hearing Blaine's name, Sam's eyes rose from her watch to his face, and after a split second of what Blaine hoped was recognition, she raised her eyebrows at him. He was still standing there. Everyone was staring at him. Blushing, Blaine lowered his gaze and motioned to the band to begin.

He missed Sam's small smile as the guitar started up.

"This is a song for Kurt." Everyone smiled slightly at the mention of Kurt's name; Blaine knew that he wasn't the only one who missed his boyfriend – Brittany still made dolphin noises in the middle of class.

**Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City?  
I'm a thousand miles away but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do.  
Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true.**

Blaine got a few contented sighs of recognition at the song, and when he snuck a glance at Sam, he saw that she had closed her eyes. He continued.

**Hey there Delilah don't you worry about the distance,  
I'm right here if you get lonely, give this song another listen - close your eyes.  
Listen to my voice; it's my disguise, I'm by your side.**

Blaine let his voice grow a little as he came to the chorus.

**Oh, it's what you do to me, oh; it's what you do to me.**

Everyone in the New Directions had begun to hum along, and Brittany was swaying in an opposite direction to everyone else; but it didn't matter, because Blaine felt like he was with family. That's what they were. New Directions was his real family.

**Hey there Delilah, I know times are getting hard,  
But just believe me girl; someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar,  
We'll have it good. We'll have the life we knew we would, my word is good.**

**Hey there Delilah, I have so much more to say,  
If every simple song I wrote to you would take your breath away, I'd write it all.  
Even more in love with me you'd fall, we'd have it all.**

As Blaine reached the second chorus, he heard the Glee Club echo the lyrics, the soft calls of 'what you do to me's harmonising beautifully under him. He let his voice grow as he reached the bridge, listening to the strings come in. He had bribed them to come and play with him by doing their theory homework, and hearing them play, he knew the extra hour or so was worth it.

**A thousand miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes, and trains, and cars;  
I'd walk to you, if I had no other way.  
Our friends would all make fun of us, but we'd just laugh along,  
Because we know that none of them have felt this way.**

**Delilah I can promise you that by the time that we get through,  
The world will never ever be the same, and you're to blame.**

He enjoyed that long note, letting his voice soar above the harmonies that his friends were making. Sam wasn't singing along, and she still had her eyes closed, but Blaine knew she was listening. He saw Tina wiping her eyes, and shot her a smile, remembering what it must have been like to say goodbye to Mike. The backing vocals provided by the club faded away as Blaine controlled his voice for that final verse, hoping that the tears he was holding back wouldn't make his voice waver. He watched Sam open her eyes and look at him strangely.

**Hey there Delilah, you be good and don't you miss me,  
Two more years and you'll be done with school, and I'll be making history; like I do,  
You know it's all because of you,  
We can do whatever we want to,  
Hey there Delilah,  
Here's to you,**

Blaine couldn't help looking back at Sam, as he sang the last line to her.

**This one's for you.**

**Oh, it's what you do to me, oh; it's what you do to me.**

As he finished his song, he was enveloped in a huge group hug of Brittany, Sam Evans, Tina, Sugar, Unique and Artie, who, yes, bruised Blaine's shins a bit with his hug, but whose effort was much appreciated. Tina was still sniffling as she took his hand and they sat down, and he threw an arm over her shoulder, consoling her.

"Shhh, Tina you're going to make me cry too, please." She giggled a bit, and let Blaine get her a tissue from his bag.

"Thank you Blaine. We miss him too." Blaine smiled at Mr Shuester, pushing back his tears. He had sung a happy song. It wasn't like he was never going to see Kurt again; it was a song about a long distance relationship working.

"Who's Kurt?" Sam asked. No one seemed to want to answer, so Blaine turned around in his seat to smile warmly at her.

"He's my boyfriend." He said simply. Sam looked surprised at that, but nodded slowly. They had stopped seeing each other when they were ten, and Blaine hadn't exactly been as flamboyant as Kurt in his childhood. In fact, he remembered thinking that Sam and he were going to get married.  
Blaine turned around, shaking the memories out of system. That sweet little girl was gone.

"All right, then." Mr Shuester clapped his hands together, quietening everyone down to get ready for the next performance. "Who's next?"

Unique stood up, and performed a huge, up-tempo number about, well, being unique. Marley sang "Summertime", which she said was her mother's favourite song. Joe Hart sang a gospel. It continued until everyone who hadn't sung yesterday had done their bit, and there were ten minutes left.

"If you're ready, Sam, I'm sure we'd all love to listen to what you've got to offer. Have you decided on a song?" Mr Shuester had managed to stay incredibly enthusiastic for nearly an hour, and that hour had included Sugar's terrible rendition of "Rich Girl."

"Sure, I'll go." Sam stood up, shedding her dark grey jacket. She was dressed in beat up old converse, dark jeans, and until she got on stage, Blaine hadn't been able to see what was on her t-shirt. Now that she was standing in front of him, he could see what was printed. There was a Wild Thing on her shirt. It looked just like the creatures from that book, and as Blaine saw the cheerful, cheeky glint in the creature's unmoving eyes, he could hear the sounds of he and Sam laughing, as little kids. As carefree, innocent, children. Blaine felt a wash of memories from his childhood as Sam addressed Mr Shue.

"Does the band just know every song, ever?"

"Pretty much. Sam, meet Brad."

Sam turned to Brad, sitting by the piano, and seemed to be talking to him pretty politely. Blaine knew that she probably held tons of respect for him; Blaine had watched her start piano lessons at age five and progress at a breakneck pace. He wondered if she still played.

"Okay, well, here goes." Sam motioned to the band to start up.

**You're gonna clean up your looks,  
for all the lies and the books,  
to make a citizen out of you.  
Because they sleep with a gun,  
and keep an eye on you, son;  
so they can watch all the things you do.**

Blaine figured she'd do something angry and violent. The glee kids seemed to be hesitant to get into the song – but Sam was good. She was really good, and they couldn't help tapping their feet, or bobbing their heads along. Sam closed her eyes as she got into the song.

**Because the drugs never work,  
they're gonna give you a smirk,  
'cause they got methods of keeping you clean.  
They're gonna rip off your head,  
your aspirations to shreds,  
another cog in the murder machine.**

Sam was laughing. Maybe she was laughing at the Glee kids, but she looked like she was having the most fun of her life. Her voice was husky, but strong enough to get a good vibrato off the slightly longer notes in the song. The girl had some pipes.

**They say that:  
Teenagers scare the living shit out of me,  
they can't care less as long as someone will bleed,  
so darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose;  
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me.**

Blaine turned to watch Mr Shue's reaction to the song, and although their teacher jumped a little when Sam swore, Blaine knew he was going to let her in. They needed a confident female lead, and while Marley had a beautiful voice, Blaine knew that she was shy, and still needed a little ego boost.

Sam took to weaving amongst the chairs where everyone sat, teasing them.  
She eyed the kids in Cheerios uniforms with obvious disdain.

**The boys and girls in the clique,  
the awful names that they stick,  
you're never gonna fit in much kid. **

She ruffled Artie's hair as she sang the line to him.

**But if you're troubled and hurt,  
what you've got under your shirt  
will make them pay for the things that they did!**

**They say that:  
Teenagers scare the living shit out of me,  
they can't care less as long as someone will bleed,  
so darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose;  
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me.**

Slowly, everyone stood up, and joined in, dancing along as the guitar broke into a massive solo. Blaine relented, and upon his standing up, Sam noticed what was going on, having been too caught up in the song to notice what was happening. But it was too late now; I shrugged and smiled at her look of outrage that her classmates had joined in to her song. But this verse was a cappella, she needed it. Still, that didn't stop her from rolling her eyes every time someone danced too close to her.

**They say that:  
Teenagers scare the living shit out of me,  
they can't care less as long as someone will bleed,  
so darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose;  
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me.**

**All together, now:  
Teenagers scare the living shit out of me,  
they can't care less as long as someone will bleed,  
so darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose;  
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me.**

The song finished with a bang, and immediately, everyone was shouting their approval, and clapping, and the guitar was going in for another solo.

Sam was just standing there, with a scornful look on her face.

"Okay, guys. Settle down." Mr Shuester was grinning, but as he got to Sam he did say, "Maybe watch the language; we can't be swearing in competitions and the like."

"Yeah, whatever."

"But you're very talented – welcome to the New Directions!" The club voiced their enthusiasm with a few more whoops and cheers, but fell silent when Sam fixed them with a glare that could freeze a desert.

"Next time, don't fucking go and fuck up my song with your adorable shitty harmonic doo-wops, kay?"

"All right, Sam, that's enough." Mr Shue put a hand on her shoulder. She glowered at him until he removed it, and then returned to her seat. "So, that was obviously in your comfort zone."

"I guess, yeah." She shrugged, crossing her legs.

"That gives me an idea for next week. Okay! Guys!" Mr Shuester clapped his hands with enthusiasm at his new idea. "You're gonna pair up – I'll give you your partners. Basically, you will be paired with someone whose musical style is opposite to yours, and you are to mentor each other in picking a song that is outside your comfort zone for next week." A collective groan came from the kids. "Seriously guys, if we are to win at Sectionals, Regionals and Nationals, we need everyone to be able to sing everything. We've got such talent this year, kids, we need to make the most of it. So, pairs:"

Mr Shuester weaved in and amongst the chairs, giving everyone their partners. Some of the funnier pairs were Sam Evans and Unique – Unique had to sing country next week, while Sam was going to have to do some kind of pop-diva power ballad.

"Blaine, you're with Sam. Get her some pop. Something slow, something sweet. Sam, Blaine needs some rock in his life." Blaine couldn't help smiling; he had never sung rock before, really.

"You've gotta be shitting me." Sam was slowly shaking her head as he turned to her.

"Come on Sam, where's the enthusiasm?" Mr Shuester was still grinning like an idiot. His naïveté was incredibly entertaining.

"Same place as Rihanna's talent."

"Just try." With that, Mr Shue was done for the day. Everyone hung back, discussing what they were going to do.

"Hey." Blaine said quietly. Looking at Sam, Blaine was confronted by just how much he had missed her.

"Uhm, hi." Sam had gathered up her coat and bag – Blaine spotted another line of text.

**Let The Wild Rumpus Start!**

"Where The Wild Things Are." He chuckled.

"Hmm?" She turned to face him once more, pulling a cigarette and lighter from her pocket.

"The line on your bag. And your shirt."

"Yeah."She muttered, turning away. She lit up her cigarette and took a slow drag, putting her lighter away.

"I really missed you," Blaine tried to coax a smile out of her.

"What? I don't even know you. Look it was nice meeting you, but I gotta go, okay? We'll meet on Monday afternoon or something, after school. I can't do anything this weekend." She strode quickly out of the choir room.

"Sam, come on, it's me." He chased after her, grabbing her hand, which she promptly shook off.

"Excuse me? Fuck off!" She raised her eyebrows, and gave him slow steady glare.

"I know you remember me." Blaine was tired; he just wanted to go home. He didn't really know what he would accomplish by forcing Sam to acknowledge her whole childhood, but he was sure as hell going to get it out of her. "Sword fights in the park, playing piano for me, singing Queen and ABBA really reaaallly loudly." Sam sighed, running a tired hand across her eyes.

"Look, Blaine. That perfect little kid you knew is nothing like who I am now. That Sam died when her sleazebag asshole of a father left." She blew a little smoke into his face, then turned, and walked away. "I didn't miss you one bit."

**Sheesh, that was long. And a bit sad, I know.  
Songs used were: Hey There Delilah – Plain White Tee's; and Teenagers – My Chemical Romance. Oh, and I guess, Summertime – George Gershwin, and Rich Girl – Gwen Stefani (but it was originally a song called Rich Boy, by someone who I don't know, and I have no access to the web, so I can't google. Forgive me please.)  
And the whole Where The Wild Things Are story – I don't know why I'm using it, mostly because I'm wearing a t-shirt like Sam's right now, and I think it was a beautiful book. It's a children's book by Maurice Sendak. I think it captures innocence better than anything in the entire world, and that is fitting to this story. So; I'll reference it a lot. **

**Hugs and kisses to anyone who decides to review! They really do make me so inestimably happy.**


	3. You Can't Count Us Out

**Sorry about the really long hiatus – I'm terrible at keeping to regular updates. I think I'm going to type the next few chapters up all at once, and then upload them like a week apart, just so that I don't feel like I'm a horrible person.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor am I making millions from selling this.**

* * *

Blaine didn't really know what was going on. Sam knew who he was; he had glimpsed the recognition in her eyes when she had first seen him. And yet; she refused to talk to him. Why was it such a bad thing that they knew each other? Fine: she had obviously cultivated a badass reputation after going to juvie, but did she really want it? Blaine wished that he could just get into her head, just for a minute, to see her motives behind pretending that her childhood didn't exist.

That weekend, Blaine was lonely. Sam and Brittany were working on some kind of science project, and his mother was away for some kind of publicity garnering stunt for his father in Columbus. Blaine was stuck at home, alone, and all he really wanted to do was talk to Kurt. But Kurt was busy; he had called Blaine on Friday night.

"_Blaine! You'll never believe what just happened!" _Kurt's usually smooth voice was choppy, from a combination of both a crappy signal and the fact that he sounded incredibly excited.

"Kurt? Hi! What's going on?" Blaine sat up from the couch, going to the front door and walking onto the porch, trying to improve the signal. The grainy white noise coming through the receiver lessened, but it was still there. Thankfully, Kurt was still shouting into the phone.

"_I just got a job at Vogue Dot Com, Blaine, Vogue Dot Com! It's a small position, I'm basically everyone's gopher, but BLAINE! I'm working for Isabelle Wright!"_

"Oh my God, Kurt, that's amazing! Congratulations!"

"_I just wanted to call and let you know, I'm working with Isabelle on her look tonight for this big fancy party tonight, and I just wanted to talk to you now. This weekend there's so much going on, and I'm probably not going to be able to call you very much."_Kurt was talking so quickly that he was starting to stumble over his words.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine. We'll talk whenever you want to talk. I'm so happy for you, Kurt." Blaine closed his eyes, smiling at the success of his boyfriend. He knew that once Kurt was in New York, he would find something that made him happy.

"_Thank you Blaine, thank you so much! I've gotta go, still need to call my dad and tell him. We'll speak soon, Blaine, I promise!" _

"Okay."

"_Kay, bye Blaine, love you!" _

Blaine's reply of "I love you too" was cut off by Kurt hanging up. Sighing, he hung up his phone, glancing at his wallpaper of him and Kurt, their faces slightly pink from cold. He remembered taking this picture last January.

Now, sitting on his bed at 8 pm on a Saturday, with nowhere to go, and nothing to do, Blaine tried to focus on his Glee club assignment. Pulling out his laptop, he sighed tiredly, scrolling through his iTunes library, sorting by genre, until he reached Rock.  
God, there really wasn't very much, was there? A couple of Queen Greatest Hits, ACDC's "Thunderstruck". Why were The Beatles listed under here?  
Blaine contemplated Kings Of Leon for a second, but decided against it. Sam would call it pop.  
This was hopeless. He didn't have anything.  
Deciding against working on his own song choice, he focused on Sam. Mr Shue wanted something soft and sweet.  
Blaine liked soft and sweet. Blaine could work with soft and sweet.

* * *

Monday came too quickly. Blaine had been complaining about being bored? What the hell was wrong with that? _Mondays were invented to hike up the teen suicide rate_, he decided, as he pushed past a group of babbling freshmen. As he pushed past, he noticed the fact that once he'd passed, instead of returning to their chatting, they were staring at him with wide eyes.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked, a little annoyed, but trying his best not to let it show.

"N-nothing." One of them piped up. At this, Blaine noticed that they were in fact not staring at him, but at someone – _or something _– behind him. Turning slowly, he was met by the meaty face of some unknown jock, his mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace.

"Get outta my way."

"Excuse me?" Blaine straightened up, but was still a good few inches shorter than this beefcake. Shit.

"You heard me, queer. Move." At the slur, Blaine had enough. His hands curled into fists as they hung loosely at his sides. No one outside the glee club knew that he could box.

"What did you call me?" The kids in the corridor had slowly backed away from Blaine and the unknown Letterman clad boy, forming a circle.

It was like a boxing ring.

"You think you're big and tough? Your little fairy boyfriend isn't here anymore. You're alone. Don't do something you'll regret."

Blaine stood there for a second in the corridor, weighing his options. He could step away, or he could take his chances in a fight. Before he could make a decision, he heard a voice call out from behind him.

"Matt."Blaine knew that voice anywhere. Sam hardly had to push her way into the circle, kids parted once they saw her.

"Sam. Uhm, hi." Matt stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking uncomfortably on his heels. He was obviously quite intimidated by this girl. Not that she wasn't intimidating. Her boots were studded along the soles, and she was wearing worn out black fingerless gloves. There was a red ribbon woven into her hair, making it look like it was on fire. She looked like she was on her way to a rock show.

Or she was about to vandalise a building.

Blaine couldn't quite decide which.

"Were you asking Blaine which bathroom is which? I told you, remember, the sign with the dress means it's meant for girls." He voice was patronising, and Matt's face went beet red, as giggle sprung up from the surrounding students.

"I-"

"Of course you weren't. Back the fuck off."Sam crossed her arms, standing next to Blaine.

"Queer needs to know his place!" Matt suddenly seized Blaine by his collar, walking him back a step before Blaine pushed him off, raising his fists.

"Hey! Don't you fucking touch him!" Sam shoved Matt backwards, pushing on his chest with a strong force. He staggered back a couple of steps, before advancing again, this time facing Sam.

"Excuse me?" He pushed his face into her personal space.

"Never lay another greasy paw on him, Matt."She didn't seem to be afraid of him, leaning closer.

"Or what?" He muttered dangerously. He smirked at her, sticking his hands back into his pockets. He was trying to hide his fear, but his hands were shaking.

Blaine had to lean in closer to catch Sam's whispered threat.

"Or you'll be coming home to a pile of ashes and the fire department."

Matt's face turned (for lack of a better word) ashen, and he slowly raised his hands in defeat - but Sam did nothing but call out: "Hey, has anyone got a lighter? Box of matches? Anything?" She smiled cheerily, but Blaine could see the seriousness in her eyes.

Matt turned wordlessly, pushing his way through the crowd of assembled students. Sam just stood there, watching him go.

"Okay, show's over children, carry on with whatever shit you were doing." She uncrossed her arms, and moved to a nearby locker, unlocking it and grabbing a couple of textbooks. Blaine moved to her, painfully aware of the other students in the corridor, still staring at them.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Blaine muttered. She turned to him, chuckling.

"You know, I think I did." She crossed her arms over herself once more, obscuring the name of the band on her t shirt.

"I would have handled it. I can take care of myself."

"What were you going to do? Sing? You couldn't even do that. You don't know any music that would get someone to back off. You'd sing a pop song about getting stronger or something shitty like that."

"I would have fought him."

"Okay. If you say so." She closed her locker. "Next time you look like you're about to get the shit beaten out of you, I won't do anything to stop it, I promise." She turned, heading in the direction of music class. Why she thought this meant he couldn't follow, Blaine didn't know.

"I've had the crap beaten out of me before." That seemed to stop her. "I've been boxing ever since. I would have handled myself."

"When?" She didn't turn around, facing the empty corridor.

"Seventh grade." She let out one, slow breath, before asking:

"Why?"

"I took another guy to a school dance." He couldn't help smiling slightly as he admitted it.

"You idiot." She turned, smiling. It was a genuine smile.

"I know, trust me." Blaine bowed my head. Why was he shy? How was she intimidating, if he had known her for almost a decade?

"D'ya wanna get out of here for a while?"She walked towards me, frowning.

"What, you mean skip?"

"I like to call it 'taking a break'."She shrugged.

"Sam-"

"I promise I will find you a song for glee when we're gone, and we can come back after first break."

Blaine debated skipping class for a few hours, then thought _Hey, why the hell not? _It wasn't like Sam was going to give him a rock song otherwise.

"Okay."

* * *

"So, what do you want to sing about?"

"I, uhm."

"That's it? I, uhm?"

"Well, I, I just-"

"What's on your mind? It helps if you're angry about something, there's tons of angry shit in my iTunes."

Upon Blaine's suggestion of the Lima Bean, Sam had scrunched up her nose in an exceedingly familiar way, and directed him to a whole in the wall coffee shop, which 'had the best mocha's you've ever had, I swear.' Looking at the place from the outside, Blaine had been a bit worried at who their company may be, but once they'd gone inside, he knew that he wouldn't be frequenting the Lima Bean anymore. The place just reminded him of Kurt anyway. It was sleek and sophisticated. Clean.  
This place was cosy. It was warm, there were bookshelves covering all the walls, and Blaine had spotted everything from thick reference books on gymnosperms, to Shakespeare's classic plays, to some very battered looking Harry Potter novels. It was perfect. Although there was quite a number of people enjoying a cup of coffee, the volume of contented chatter was nothing but a quiet hum, as people were careful not to disturb the peace of this place.

"I'm not angry about anything. I miss Kurt, I guess."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that, and there is a Blink-182 song that would have been perfect – but you sang about missing Kurt last week, I don't want you to get all depressed; and, I don't think you could really pull off that fucking annoying twangy voice that still works in all the Blink-182 songs." Sam pulled out a battered old laptop from her battered old backpack, opened it, and tapped on a few keys.

"I'm not really a fan of Blink-182." She raised her eyes from her laptop screen and surveyed me reproachfully.

"Blaine, the point of this entire 'assignment'," She raised two fingers and traced quotation marks in the air, "was to get you out of your comfort zone, i.e. to get you to sing something awesome that you wouldn't have otherwise."

"I guess." At that point, a waitress arrived with their mochas, and upon taking the first sip of hers, Sam let out a moan that affected Blaine in more ways that he would have liked to admit. He shifted in his seat, taking a small sip of his coffee. Then another, and another, because _holy crap, this is amazing. _A soft, warm feeling travelled down his throat and into his chest, making him feel boneless. He leant back into the squishy armchair that Sam had insisted he take, and let the cushions swallow him as he closed his eyes.

"I know, right?"

Blaine simply nodded, opening his eyes sleepily and smiling back at Sam, who seemed quite amused with his obvious pleasure.

"The first time I came here, I honestly asked the barista if he'd put weed or something into it, because seriously."

"Mmmm."

"Okay, you can't think straight, I get it. But I've got an idea for a song choice – I'm pretty sure that Glee kids are seen as weak, right? As underdogs?"

"Always."

* * *

"All right guys!" Finn had taken over Glee Club from Mr Shue with almost no notice, so we were continuing with the theme, but with him in charge. So far this afternoon, Blaine had seen Sam sing something by Whitney Houston to Britanny, and Unique sing a soft, sweet Taylor Swift song about heartbreak – or something along those lines.  
Sam had chosen to sit next to him this time, instead of right at the back as usual. Probably because she had seen his nerves showing through his weak smile when she asked him how he was doing.  
Blaine was never nervous. Performing had always come naturally to him. It was because this song wasn't anything like what he usually sang. Nothing like it.  
Then suddenly, his name was called, and he found himself walking to the middle of the choir room.

"Uhm, hi everybody." The glee club smiled at him encouragingly, and Blaine swallowed awkwardly, willing himself to get over his nerves and just get the song over with. He glanced at Sam, who was perched on the edge of her seat. He felt a bizarre yearning to somehow impress her, and in a burst of unexpected courage, he cleared his throat and stated proudly: "I'm going to sing a song called Dark Horses, by Switchfoot."

"Great, Blaine. Off you go." Finn said kindly.

Blaine motioned to the band to start up the song, and watched Sam smile faintly at the guitar opening to the song. He closed his eyes, and let the beat take him.

_Made my mistakes  
I've seen my heart cave in,  
I've got my scars,  
I've been to hell and back again._

_Born for the blue skies  
We'll survive the rain;  
Born for the sunrise  
we'll survive the pain ._

Blaine couldn't hear himself think above the noise of the band. He couldn't feel himself, but it felt good. It felt good to lose control.  
Blaine raised his fist in triumph as he sang the chorus.

_We're singing hey! You can't count us out,  
We've been running up against the crowd,  
Yeah, we're the dark horses.  
We're singing wait! It's not over now,  
We've been down but we've never been out,  
Yeah, we're the dark horses._

_Found the way out  
The city takes everything it can,  
But outside the crowds_

Blaine cut the band out with a sharp motion of his hand, as he whispered the last line, doubling over in spite of himself.

_I can feel my lungs again. _

The band started up again, the volume constantly rising.

_Born for the blue skies  
We'll survive the rain;  
Born for the sunrise  
We'll survive the pain. _

The glee club stood, joining him in the choir room. Blaine felt like the frontman of a badn in a gigantic stadium, and he closed his eyes, screaming out the lyrics.

_We're singing hey! You can't count us out  
We've been running up against the crowd,  
Yeah we're the dark horses.  
We're singing wait! It's not over now  
We've been down but we've never been out,  
Yeah we're the dark horses._

_Singing, na na na na na na na._

_Born for the blue skies_

Blaine felt like he was flying, and as he spread his arms out around him, he caught Sam's eye. She looked extremely pleased with herself, winking as she sat cross-legged on her chair. She hadn't joined in on the festivities.

_Born for the blue skies _

Blaine ran to her in a storm of courage, taking her hand, and pulling her forward to dance with him and the club. Through the door, he could see Jake Puckerman watching in awe, and he put every last ounce of energy into the last burst of the song.

_Born for the sunrise,  
We'll survive the pain. _

_We're singing hey! You can't count us out,  
We've been running up against the crowd,  
Yeah, we're the dark horses.  
We're singing wait! Don't care what they say  
We know we'll find a way,  
Yeah, we're the dark horses!_

The glee club fell about each other, everyone clapping each others' backs and whooping. Blaine found himself pressed against Sam, chest to chest, and he brought her into a hug, ignoring the protesting and threats.

"Blaine..." Sam grumbled against his collarbone. Blaine smelled her lemony shampoo. He let go of her, and she brushed herself off, rolling her eyes at him.

"Well, I'm looking forward for Sam's performance. Good job, you too." Finn called out from across the choir room, clapping his hands. "That's it for today, guys. Well done everyone."

"Yeah, well done Sam." Sam Evans said from behind Blaine, slinging a casual arm over Blaine's shoulder as he smiled adoringly at Sam. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Just thank him, Sam." Sam turned to him, smiling wryly.

"Yeah, I guess I should start making friends here. Even if they are..." She motioned at Sam. "Like you. I'm not sure what that entails, but I'll give it a go. Thank you. I'm glad you liked it." She smiled at Sam, and Blaine couldn't detect even a hint of insincerity.

"Y-you're welcome." Sam said giddily, flushing, and getting his bag.

"Sure." Sam turned her attention away from him as she fished a cigarette out of the front pocket of her backpack. "Blaine, when are you free? I need a song."

"Uhm," Blaine watched Sam Evans' entire body droop dejectedly as he left the choir room before he deftly plucked the cigarette from Sam's lips. "Tonight's good, actually."

"Providing you don't piss me off before then." Sam tried to grab back her cigarette, but Blaine held it behind his back, manoeuvring out of her grasp whenever she tried to pry his fingers apart. "Blaine!"

"They're bad for you. You're not going to be able to sing properly – it may sound good with rock, but you're not doing rock this time." Blaine dropped the cigarette, mashing it onto the floor with the heel of his shoe.

"Since when are you so brave?"She sat her hands coyly on her hips.

"Since you need me to get you a song."

**Sorry again for the long wait. I'm still debating song choices for this, so give me some time before the next chapter, won't you? Thanks. xx**


End file.
